


tides rush in

by NotSummer



Series: AU One-shots [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU of an AU of an AU, BDSM, Blindfolds, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Restraints, Smut, Undercover, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSummer/pseuds/NotSummer
Summary: "Go on a mission with the man you've been secretly pining for while posing as a recently married couple." Right, that sounds easy.





	tides rush in

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was not smut, but someone insisted I write it and here we are. The original work isn't even done yet, damnit. Alas, enjoy.

She grinned up at Jesse as they sat by the pool side bar, hiding her unease. His arm was around her shoulders, his skin cool against hers, and her head was lying on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, the slow and steady thump, and she could feel the flex of his muscles as he shifted carefully.

With every breath she took, she felt more and more hyperaware of him, but they were playing the part of a loving couple and so she let him run his fingers over her arm, tracing patterns she couldn’t see. She closed her eyes, letting a smile creep over her face as she shifted closer.

Their target was at the other side of the bar. She let her eyes slide open as she twisted to press her chest to his, her chin hooking over his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. He inhaled, his body stiffening, but she murmured, “I have eyes on our target,” her words barely more than a breath.

His hands shifted to her back, keeping her in place against him. Their target looked up, saw her curling around Jesse, and smirked. She met the target’s eyes, but let her own gaze drift away as she pressed her lips against the pulse point of Jesse’s neck. “He’s watching us,” she whispered, running her lips over the shell of his ear. He exhaled, giving an imperceptible nod, but she could feel his body coiling and tensing underneath her. “For this mission, you can run your hands down my lekku, otherwise they’ll wonder why not.”

“Are you sure?” he twisted to nip gently as her jawline, and she nodded, again just a slight movement. One of his hands shifted from her back to her lekku, and she jerked as his calluses ran down its length. An involuntary gasp ripped from her lungs, and her arms tightened around Jesse’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, “Keep doing that.” He laughed quietly, his hands raising again to trace patterns over her lekku and she squirmed, her body pushing against his as her hips jerked. Her eyes flicked back to the target- he was packing up his stuff. “Jesse, he’s packing up.” she hesitated, but added, “If the guards tell us to head back to our rooms-.”

“- we have a reason to head back at the same time.” Her eyes darted around, and there was a couple guards already watching them. She shifted so she was sitting with his leg in between hers, and he inhaled deeply as she added in between kisses to his jaw, “mouth on lekku, that should do it.”

As his lips ran across her lekku, nipping slightly at the sensitive appendages, an involuntary whine ripped from her throat. Her hips ground down against his leg as her back arched, and he faltered slightly but rallied, working on marking her lekku.

“Hey! You two need to head back to your rooms,” one of the guards interrupted. The groan she let out was not entirely feigned, but she got up, Jesse keeping her body in front of his. They got to the door the same time as their target, who snickered slightly. “Enjoying yourselves?”

Miyala hummed from where she was nearly hanging off Jesse’s arm. “Oh, I know I am,” she purred. She pulls Jesse to their room, which happens to be in the same hallway as the target’s due to SIS trickery. She’s still nearly vibrating with arousal as she swipes her tongue across his collarbones while he fumbles for the door lock.

It’s her only excuse for her next actions: her hands drift down his bare chest to the waistband of his shorts, where there’s a rather obvious tent he’s been trying to hide. He’s the one who jerks this time, and she hears a snort from the target, who’s just sliding into his own room. Jesse manages to wrest open the door, and he pulls her with him as her fingers, drunk with lust, start to trace the bulge in his shorts.

He pushes her against the door, pressing his leg between hers as he runs his mouth along her lekku. Her fingers slip below his waistband, pulling his cock into her hands. He slips a hand underneath her shirt, tugging it off and lowering his mouth to her breasts as she grinds herself against his leg. She swipes her thumb over the head as her other hands runs down his length to cup his sac and his hips jerk into hers.

She grins, and then gasps as he picks her up, pushing her up against the door. He moves his mouth back up to her neck, working on marking her up with hickeys. Her legs tighten around his waist, and he moves his hand back to her breasts, pinching her nipple, wet from his kisses previous.

“Bed,” she gasps, her back arching as his hand moves to her other breast.

For the first time since they had entered the room, she sees hesitation in his eyes. “Are you sure?” The quiet words are a contradiction to the way he grinds himself against her, but they are no less sincere. To make it to the bed, to remove clothes entirely: this is beyond keeping up a cover.

“Yes. Please.”

It’s her quiet please that undoes him, and he moves his arms back under her, carrying her over to the bed, placing her down carefully, a new look entering his eyes. It’s calculating, and she shivers under its weight, looking up at him.

He kneels on the bed, right in front of her, his eyes searching hers as his hands raise to cup her cheeks. “I like to be in control,” he says carefully, “Would you be alright with that?”

She nods, her throat constricting as her mind conjures images of the possibilities.

“Let me hear you,” he says. His thumbs stroke her cheekbones, a gentle movement completely at odds with what he’s asking, and she nearly comes undone on the spot, with his words and his presence and the way she’s been so damn wound up since the mission started.

“Please. I’m yours.”

He grins, a sharp thing, and kisses her brow. “So you are.” He pulls back again. “How do you feel about restraints?” His eyes rake over her body, and she’s still wearing her bra and her pants, but she feels naked under his gaze. “About blindfolds?”

“Did you bring those with you?” Her voice is breathy, but the question is genuine.

“This is a honeymoon suite,” he says, a dry edge to his voice. It deepens as he says, “I still need an answer, Miyala,” and the edge of Command in his voice makes her whine.

“Yes!”

“Good.” His hands land on her shoulders, directing, pushing her over until she’s flat on her stomach and her ass in the air. “Do you have a safe word?”

“Temple,” she answers, her eyes fixed in front of her on the headboard, now within easy arm’s reach. She thinks of restraints and feels her pussy grow even slicker. Her breathing is uneven, but his hands leave her shoulders and she scowls at the loss of contact.

His weight leaves the bed, but he orders her, “Be a good girl and don’t move,” so she doesn’t twist around to see where he’s going. Jedi discipline is good for something, so she keeps her eyes on the headboard, her eyes tracing the veins in the wood.

All too soon and yet not quite quickly enough, she feels his weight settle on the bed again, shifting as he moves to straddle her waist. He kisses the top of her head, gently, but she doesn’t move, still conscious of his orders. “You are good,” her murmurs as he pulls a soft velvety piece of fabric over her eyes. Her toes curl up at the praise, and her eyes close under the fabric, giving in to the loss of one of her senses.

She feels him shift again, and this time fabric wraps around her wrists. His callouses don’t quite match the ones on her own hands, but against the soft underside of her wrists, they’re immediately noticeable. The fabric doesn’t pull too tight or hang too loose,  and his weight disappears off her as he finishes restraining her arms to the headboard.

Without any sense of sight, it’s a surprise to her when he gently places a kiss on her shoulder, and she jerks. She doesn’t expect the sharp sting of his hand on her ass, nor the sudden surge of desire it provokes, especially coupled with his chiding, “Stay still.”

His fingers undo her bra, and she wants to roll her shoulders at the blissful sensation of it being off, but then she can’t quite contain a snort when she hears him swear under his breath as he tries to figure out how to get it over her arms without undoing the restraints. “Do you mind if I rip this?”

“Go ahead,” she says, and the ripping of fabric soon follows. His hands return to her breasts, but slide back down her body to unfasten her pants. He pulls them down, slowly, agonizingly slowly, his mouth nipping and sucking at every inch of newly revealed skin, until her pants and underwear are gone. She hears the thud of fabric on the ground, and smiles slightly at the mental image of him tossing her clothes over his shoulder.

Her smile disappears as he wraps big hands around her thighs pulling them apart. “You are dripping, dear,” he purrs. A moan tears out of her throat in response, and she hears him chuckle.

She’s unprepared for his tongue flicking at her clit, and she gasps. It’s an effort not to move, to stay still as he slips a finger inside her, still sucking at the nub of flesh even as he crooks his fingers in a way that has her fighting every instinct to writhe and arch and shout under the rhythm he’s setting.

He withdraws as soon as she nears her orgasm. “Not yet, Miyala. I haven’t told you to come.” She waits for him to act next, blinded and vulnerable and helpless and completely at his mercy. Without her sight, all her other senses seem heightened, and the cool air over her skin, the waves of the nearby ocean outside, the coiling of the springs as Jesse shifts his weight: she hadn’t noticed them, but now they are a cacophony.

Her skin is tight, and she tries to regulate her breathing as she waits. The bed shifts again, and his hand falls on her ass. Not a slap this time, but a tap of fingers. “Another time,” he murmurs and she concurs silently. His fingers slip back inside her, one, and then two. His thumb presses on her clit. “Come,” he orders.

She does.

She shouts, her back arches, she lifts nearly off the bed with the force of it, but the restraints keep her down. Miyala nearly sobs with the relief of it, the coils beneath her skin receding as the black of the blindfold turns into a starry night sky. His fingers pump in and out of her, his thumb swiping over her clit as she orgasms, drawing it out, but eventually she settles back onto her stomach, trying to catch her breath.

“You’re so good, sweetheart, so loud.” His voice rumbles, but the command and the pride are clear. “Do you enjoy being tied up? Helpless? I could do anything to you. I could let you lie here, wondering.” He chuckles, and the dark edge to his laugh stokes her burning desire, sends it into a roaring inferno once more. “But you’re being so obedient, so lovely. Perhaps I should reward you.”

His fingers trail along her spine, and then his mouth brushes against her lekku. He runs a hand down one, following the path of his fingers with kisses, and then switches to the other. “Tell me,” he whispers, leaning above her, his voice right in her earcone, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, please,” she babbles, dipping her head slightly.

“I want to hear you say it.” He doesn’t speak loudly. Jesse’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s rough, edged with lust and it strikes at her core.

“Fuck me, please,” she says, compliant and eager. “I want your cock in me, I want you, please.”

The heat above her disappears as he sits back, the bed tipping under the concentration of his weight as he sits back on his heels. The head of his cock nudges at her entrance, and he pushes in slowly. She can’t stop herself, and she jerks her hips backwards, trying to get more of his length inside her.

He swats at her ass again. “Still and quiet,” he orders, and she does. She wants to push back, she wants him to fuck her and stop with this slow tantalizing movement, but she wants to be good for him.

Miyala can feel the coarse hair of his legs brushing up against hers, can feel every inch of him against her inner walls. She keeps expecting him to bottom out, his balls brushing against her, but he keeps driving deeper.

Then- finally, his hips are snug against her, and he moves, thrusting in and out quickly enough that she’s taken by surprise. He angles himself a bit more, grunting quietly, and then begins to hit that sweet spot inside her with every stroke, and she very nearly orgasms right then.

Orders, though. Miyala holds herself back from that plateau, but it takes a herculean effort. His balls hit her clit every time he enters her fully, and she knows she’s not supposed to move, but she throws her head back, trying not to come.

His hand whistles through the air, and she’s expecting the strike, but she just clenches tighter around him, and he groans. Jesse withdraws, pulling out completely, and his hands flip her over so she’s on her back. She nearly wails at the loss of him, but he soon enters her again.

She can feel Jesse’s mouth on her tits, sucking at her right breast as his hand snakes down to thumb her clit. The feeling of him inside her hitting the right spots, his thumb on her clit, and his mouth at her breasts makes her want to scream, but she’s not allowed to come, and she’s supposed to be quiet and still.

Jedi discipline is good for something, after all.

Jesse’s voice is strained as he finally orders, “Come.”

She arches, screaming as her legs jerk up and her toes curl. She rips through the restraints as she convulses, and the Force turns the room into a maelstrom as furniture gets knocked around. Even lost in her own orgasm, she’s cognizant of Jesse pulling out of her and shouting her name as hot spurts of cum land on her stomach, painting her red skin.

Reality slowly weaves itself back together, and her chest heaves as she gasps for air. His hands tremble as he undoes the blindfold, and she closes her eyes, jerking away from the light. She’s oversensitive and it’s too much all at once.

The bed springs bunch once more, but before she truly becomes cognizant of his absence, Jesse is back with a warm wet washcloth. The fabric is rough against her skin as he cleans her stomach and her thighs, and she whimpers, words still escaping her.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. I got you. You’re fine. You’ve been such a good girl, I just need to get you cleaned up.” His voice is gentle as he coos at her, and she tries to relax for him as the rag swipes closer to the apex of her thighs. He’s thorough, and even as she tenses he keeps up a steady stream of gentle murmurs to distract her.

She cracks open her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows in time to see him toss the washcloth into a corner. He eyes her cautiously, wearily, but he pushes himself up the bed until he can gently pull her into his chest. They curl up together, quiet, on top of the covers, both recovering from their roles.

Jesse’s heartbeat is still fast, but she keeps her eyes cracked, opening them wider as her hypersensitivity fades. She nuzzles deeper into his chest, getting as close as she can, and Jesse’s arms begin to stroke up and down her spine. He’s quiet now, but there’s an emotion in the movement of his fingers on her skin, one that any other moment she might shy away from.

Her walls are down now, though, and her admission slips out in a jagged voice, “I’m falling in love with you.” There’s no other person she would let make her be so vulnerable before them. His hands stutter to a stop as he processes her statement, but before he says anything, she corrects herself. “I am in love with you. Jesse.”

It doesn’t take much effort for her to prop herself up, place a hand on his shoulder and push him until he’s the one on his back. She looks down into his eyes, watches his mouth move even as no sound escapes.

Finally he gathers himself. “Miyala… I… Me? I’m just-.”

Miyala cuts him off. She knows what he’s about to say, and he’s not ‘just a clone’. “You are a good man. I trust you at my back, and I trust you here, at my most vulnerable. There is no other man I would want with me.”

She’s nearly recovered, but she keeps her walls down and lets her honesty and love shine through in her quiet admission. If she can be so physically vulnerable, then she can do the same emotionally.

Jesse fights with himself, a struggle in his eyes, but he rasps out, “I love you.”

She dips her head down, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. She moves her lips, presses kisses all over his face before tracing the outline of his tattoo. He’s grinning up at her, and she pulls back to smile at him. Force, but she loves this man dearly.

“I suppose it will be easier to pose as a married couple if we are a couple.”

He snorts, his laughter gaining strength until he’s sitting up and wiping tears from his eyes. He pulls her into his lap, and wraps his arms around her. “They did say be convincing.”

She pulls his head down to kiss him again. “I believe we’ve met that requirement.” His grin brightens even more, and she revises her opinion of this mission. It has been a fantastic mission, and she is deeply appreciative of the time they have left in this resort.


End file.
